


Clear Vision

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [32]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 31: Voyeur: Dean and Sam have a little morning fun. A John Finds Out Fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear Vision

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

Sam throws a lazy arm around Dean. There’s an annoying beam of sunlight hitting him in the eye, and the morning stiffy isn’t backing down. He rolls over, tucking it into the crease of the smaller man’s ass with a happy sigh, thoughts wandering. The room is still pretty dark, so Dean will be pleased. The motel isn’t bad, really.

Dean turns fast and startles the boy with a kiss.

“Wake me up like that, you little brat. Oughta tan your hide.”

Sam giggles. Whoops. Maybe still a little tired, here. “You want my ass, all you have to do is ask, fool.”

Dean presses in a deep kiss. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Same here.” They lazily toy with each other’s hair, kissing like a couple of girls. There’s something to be said for the post-adrenaline, post-vicious worrying stage of a hunt. Both of them feel closer.

“What happens if my hands wander?” The question is accompanied by a little moan as Sam’s hands ghost over his cock.

Sam’s low chuckle replies. “Maybe I’ll tan your hide, if that happens.” Another kiss, and another whimper, this time Sam’s, as Dean’s hands raise the ante.

In the next bed, John opens his eyes, aware of what he’s hearing. He’s heard the sounds of one or the other of his boys pleasuring himself in the night many, many times, when the other family members are supposedly sleeping. It’s one of the reasons why he restrains his own activities to the shower, or to when he’s alone. But he’s never heard both of them, much less conversing about it, like he’s hearing now. He strains his ears, cuts his breathing to a minimum. Bobby mentioned it to him, as had Ellen, that there was something more between his boys. He’d had a long discussion with Jim about it, as well, about six months back.

“You wish. Do you have-“

“Yeah.” The cap to the lube is flipped open, and there’s a snicker at the sound of it glopping onto Dean’s hand.

“Dude, how old are you? Never mind. I’d rather laugh at the noises you’re gonna be making in a minute.”

“I do NOT make cute sounds – oooohhhh,” comes the moan from Sam, and Dean’s answering laugh. He smothers Sam’s next protest with a kiss.

John wrestled with it for a long time. He’d had plenty of buddies in ‘Nam who were sharing blankets. Good soldiers, too. He’s watched the boys, the last months, after Ellen confirmed it for him, and if anything, they’re closer. They’re calmer. They’re a better team. Somehow, he’s not surprised. He’s the one who set them up for this, after all. Relying on no one but one another – and himself. Bobby told him it sure as hell isn’t the first time a family hunting wound up in this boat – and that since there weren’t any worries about anyone getting pregnant, he should hold his tongue. Bobby always an outspoken motherfucker.

“You didn’t want to last night, Dean – your shoulder still won’t take the weight.”

“Don’t have to now, if you’ll return the favor.” Dean’s laughter is low, after another kiss is given-taken, and Sam is unable to keep back the moans. Dean’s fingers know all the right places to touch, and the boy tells him so. “Dude, you’re such a girl.”

“I’m not the one who always has to get up and pee after we –oh god – fuck like bunnies, Dean.”

“Shut up and come.” Sam obeys.

John listens to the kisses being exchanged, and hears the doublespeak that all the Winchesters are so good at behind it, hears the boys reassuring each other that they’re both okay, they’re fine, they have each other, hears the hidden I love you’s.

“You ok there, tiger?”

Sam pants for a moment. “Yah. Damn, Dean.” There’s silence for a minute, then, “C’mere.” It’s Dean’s turn to make little noises, and every so often, Sam slides his mouth off of Dean’s cock to tease him about them. Then Dean’s groaning, and thrusting, and Sam’s laughing, a sound that’s low with quiet delight. They kiss again.

John makes his decision, hearing the kisses. It’s fine. He doesn’t care. He knows both boys have tried for normal, and both have failed, and he hated it every time. This, this has been working – apparently for a long time, too. He’s weirded out for a minute by the fact that he hasn’t been uncomfortable, listening to them kiss, listening to the sounds of pleasure. It’s love. He knows what love is, and love isn’t something that makes anyone uncomfortable, at least it shouldn’t, and he almost likes the sound of it, would like it if those dreams for the kids futures weren’t still haunting him. But it’s ok.

“Maybe we could just be careful of your shoulder,” Sam says, and Dean makes a musing sort of noise. John discovers that he may be comfortable with love, but sex is another thing entirely. He clears his throat.

“You boys know better than to mess with recovery time,” he says, trying to hide his amusement over the fallout that’s about to occur.

Both boys yelp and sit bolt upright, clutching blankets to themselves. Dean’s out of the bed, backing up. “D-dad,” he says, “W-when did you get in – _how_ did you get in?”

John stretches luxuriously. “Who taught you what name to check in under in this part of the country? And how to sneak in? Got in around three, didn’t want to wake you boys.” They’re both staring at him, and he thinks that Sam is shaking. “Why don’t you both sit down. Maybe some clothes, too,” he says musingly. He represses another laugh as they jump to obey, and shuffle around each other, trying not to touch one another. He’s glad it worked out this way – the shock has them both pretty compliant, instead of the slinking behaviour he’d have expected from Dean, and the hollering from Sam.

“I suppose I could sum it up to the fact that it’s pretty obvious, what you two are doing – what you have.”

Two quiet ‘yessirs’ answer him.

“It isn’t what I’d have hoped for you.” He lets that one stand in the silence. “I also have to say that if it’s what’s right for both of you, I don’t have anything to say about it. I know it doesn’t fuck with your hunting. So long as that stays true…”

“Are you _serious_???” Sam’s outburst was expected.

“Yes. Well, one thing. I don’t want to see it, or hear it, boys. Keep on as you’ve been, do your old man a favor. Now, you want to get cleaned up, catch some breakfast, because we’ve got a cabin we can stay in, up in the Northwoods. Should be nice, this time of year.”

They look at each other, frozen in place, and John finally goes, shutting the bathroom door behind him. Their arms go around one another, and it’s Dean who speaks.

“Are you breathing?”

“Yeah. Are we dead?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Did he just give us his blessing?”

“Dude, don’t rush for the altar. I haven’t proposed yet.”

As always, Dean’s levity breaks the stunned atmosphere, and they’re laughing, with a few tears mixed in, and a huge weight they’d been carrying for a long time just sliding away. They’re deep in a kiss when John comes out.

“Christ, Dean, support his head if you’re gonna lean that far into it. All those porn flicks on the motel bills, you didn’t learn anything?”

It might have been the first time the Winchesters barreled into a diner, half-starved and laughing, but it probably wouldn’t be the last.


End file.
